So Hard to Forget
by TheMacUnleashed
Summary: The memories appeared at strange times, triggered by even the tiniest things. Post COE; Jack-centric.


**Title: Reminder  
Author: TheMacUnleashed  
Disclaimer: RTD and the BBC own all characters.  
Pairings: Jack/Ianto  
Timeline: Post-COE: Day Four, by around a year.  
Notes: **_Italics_ **indicate flashbacks.**

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The drink was blue.

That or it was green, or some strange, rather gaudy yellow, or just a mixture of the three. In the flashing strobe light of the bar, Jack couldn't really be sure. The only thing that he could be certain of was that it was some bright colour that didn't naturally occur in any sort of nature that he'd yet to encounter, and that it tasted fruity.

It was served in a container fairly reminiscent of a cocktail glass (of course, the stem of it was a good deal longer, and it held more of the drink than any normal one back on Earth would have, but hey, he wasn't going to complain about that.)

Jack was also rather convinced that it was cheap –he hadn't quite spent enough time on this slimy cesspool of a planet to get a grasp of what was a good deal on a drink, but he had simply asked the vaguely reptilian barista (or possibly bartender –it was hard to tell just what gender most of the pureblooded natives identified with, and as few of them as there were left, that was still a problem at times) for that day's specials, and had gotten what he did.

He sighed and turned away from it, not completely satisfied with it. He rarely was these days –you'd think that a few centuries of living on Earth would make him grateful to come back to somewhere that was halfway developed, but to his surprise he found himself missing it, old rock that it was.

He picked up the drink by its long, spiraled stem and sauntered over to where a man was nursing his drink by himself. He seemed to be fairly young, within a few years of Jack's physical age, although since he definitely wasn't human, the whole aging thing probably was a bit different. He had bright skin that was smooth and blue in the lightning-quick flashes of the bright light, and long, slitted eyes. His ears were pointy; Jack rather liked that. No hair, which was a bit of a downside, but the three dark ridges riding over his scalp certainly were… interesting, if nothing else. And hey, they _did_ work well with the blue skin.

"You look rather lonely tonight. Why's that?" He dropped onto the wooden stool neighboring the other man's. Oh, there would be splinter hell to pay for that decision –but if he succeeded in his efforts, than maybe it was worth it.

The man regarded him closely, an eyebrow raising above the narrow eyes. "Perhaps my loneliness is a choice."

"Nah. A handsome man like you; that couldn't be true." He quickly downed the rest of his drink, tossing the colorful contents down his throat, and relishing the burn that they left in their wake. "Here, I see that you're almost done with your drink. Let me buy you a new one." The statement wasn't quite true –the unlabeled bottle was just under halfway full- but Jack's experience had been that waiting was typically a bad idea, since there wasn't much conversation you could make in the loud, electronic music, and just sitting there, watching and waiting for your subject to be done his drink got awkward _very _quickly.

He waved to the barista and quickly got her attention. The place looked full to him, but judging from the way she had just been casually lolling against the back wall, coolly surveying the crowd, there wasn't much to do.

"Yes?"

"Bring my friend here another one of his… whatever that is. And I'll take one too please, honey." He winked at her, but she ignored it, assuming that she had noticed.

Now the blue-skinned man seemed to be taking somewhat of a notice of him. "That's rather generous of you. Might I ask what your name is?"

"Franklin Harkness. And you are?" Jack had wanted to leave his name behind on Earth, like he had left so many things, but he started to get rather attached to it, or the last part, at least, and for whatever reason, his father's name had been the first thing to come to mind when he started to build up a new identity.

"Sinen. Sinen Muits." It was hard to tell with the gravelly voice, but Jack thought that he could detect a hint of interest in it.

"Well, Sinen Muits, I'm glad to meet you."

"As I am to you, Franklin Harkness." He looked like he had more to say, but the barista slunk back up to the counter just at that moment, and placed two drinks down on the counter, the force of it making a few drops of the amber liquid that it contained splash back out.

"Add that to your bill?" She glanced at Jack with indifferent yellow eyes.

"Yes please, darling." He watched as she turned around, and then turned back around to face Sinen. "Well, Sinen, are you enjoying your drink?"

Another eyebrow raise, though that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. "Immensely."

"That's very good, then." He took his bottle and, with only a little bit of effort, managed to pull off the tightly screwed-on cap, and took a taste of it for himself.

And then Jack almost choked on the liquid, not because it felt particularly unpleasant in his mouth, or particularly strong in its taste, because it was neither –actually, the taste was weaker than with most beers. It just tasted… familiar.

_The bars on Earth weren't always this dull, or this well-lit and just plain classy, but Ianto had been the one to suggest the place, and like a good boy, Jack had reluctantly surrendered his plans for a more exciting evening, and gone along with the alternative idea._

_"I didn't even know that they still had places this… clean." He took a swing of the drink that the bartender had brought over to him, some sort of beer, he though, although he had just had what Ianto was having, which probably could have been anything._

_"You're just not used to hanging out in any place with room to move your arms, and light to see where you're putting down your drink." Ianto seemed calm, almost relaxed here._

_"I guess that's true." He had frowned and looked around, not entirely comfortable with being able to see the faces of every single patron of the place. "Still I can't say that I miss it."_

_Ianto shook his head, a rare smile, small as it was, on his face. "Only you, Jack."_

He came out of the memory with a gasp. Why now? It had been at least a year, in Earth's time since… since the 456… since everything.

Sinen was watching him, a five-clawed hand curling around his own bottle of drink. Human he might not have been, but with his head tilted to the side, and eyes widening very slightly, he was able to convey a perfect look of curiosity. "Is something wrong, Franklin Harkness?"

Jack shook his head quickly. "No. Nope, we're all fine over here, Sinen." That hoity-toity place that he could never stand, but that had been Ianto's favorite; that was where he remembered this from.

For a moment, he considered asking what exactly it was that he was drinking, but decided against it: there was no need to let the sacred be disturbed.

At present time, though, he had no desire to revisit those memories, and so he set aside the bottle, holding just a single mouthful less of liquid. "Tell me, are you the kind of man who enjoys a dance? Because I'd be more than willing to take you on out there," he nodded at the crowded dance floor, where flashing lights only briefly illuminated a varietyof people, some who vaguely resembled the humans who would spread outwards from their home planet of Earth in only another century or two, and others who were completely new to him, resembling nothing that he had ever seen before.

Sinen considered the option for several moments, during which Jack carefully noted the other beings seated in tables towards the back, and also around the bar, the ones that he would go to if he was turned down.

The blue-skinned creature ended up surprising him. "Yes, Franklin Harkness. I see nothing that I would lose from a single dance." He set aside his drink, which, Jack realized with a start, had already been finished in the short period of time, and then stood up in a fluid, graceful moment. "Come."

"A leading man. I like that." He stood up from his splintery stool which, now that he was actually looking down on it, probably wouldn't survive the next person to take a seat on it.

Sinen didn't respond to the quip, instead continuing to lead the way onto the dance floor until they found a small, clear spot in the middle of a herd of swaying, sweaty bodies. The song that was playing (and he had no idea if it was a band who was playing it, or just some sort of hyped-out jukebox, spitting out tunes at random) wasn't exactly a slow one, but it certainly didn't have that flashy, vibrating sound that its predecessors had had.

Sinen's hands felt rough in his, large and long (then again, perhaps Jack was being narrow minded –after all, his hands had to have felt odd in his dance partner's, all smooth and soft against such rough skin, even though he personally felt that his hands were tough and calloused.)

It felt strange to be letting another person lead the dance, and slightly disconcerting. There had only been one other time that he could remember doing this…

_"Relax. I've done this before, you know."_

_Jack doubted Ianto's words as he grinned, and did his best to quell down the urge to lead the dance. "With a man? I think not."_

_Ianto blushed; although Jack was more than happy to provide a partial list of all of his more memorable partners, they rarely discussed Ianto's life before coming to the Cardiff branch of Torchwood. "Maybe not. But still, you act as though I've had no experience leading."_

_Jack smirked as they missed a step as a result of Ianto having been distracted by their speaking. "To me, you haven't."_

"Not very focused on the dance now, are you?" Sinen peered at him through his slitted eyes. "Your heart promised to another, perhaps?"

"Oh, no. _Definitely_ not." And that, Jack knew, was decidedly _not_ a lie. Since Iant... since Earth, he'd been with half-a-dozen partners, at the very least. Perhaps he hadn't stayed with them very long, but it still counted. It had to.

"Of course." Despite the words, Sinen didn't seem to believe him, a quiet, knowing tone in his deep voice. "Still, it seems as though you are rather... distracted this evening." His hands fell away from their positions on Jack's shoulder, and in his hand, and he backed away, looking sympathetic. "Goodbye, Franklin Harkness. Until we meet again."

"Yeah, right. 'Bye." Jack stood there for a moment, watching as Sinen left. He considered yelling after him -he seemed to be an interesting person, and Jack certainly had no objections to learning more about him- but in the end, an inner weariness won out, and he decided to just collect up his drink, and go back to the alien-style motel he was currently staying at.

The barista met him as he was picking up his previously-abandoned bottle of drink, moving up so silently that she probably would have scared the hell out of him, if it wasn't for a few centuries' worth of instincts. "Leaving?"

"Sure am, sweetheart." He grinned at her. "Why? Would you rather that I stayed for a little while longer?"

She stared back at him, cool and impassive. "Your bill totals to twenty-nine credits."

"Oh, yeah. The bill, right." He dug into the pockets of his jacket, and produced a series of the small, round stone-like objects that made up that place's currency. "Is this the exact change?"

She looked at him now with slight emotion in her eyes: just a hint of disgust, perhaps, or annoyance. "Not quite." She swept up the money, and quickly replaced it with several more of the spherical coins. "Your change is thirteen credits and fourteen deciparts." Whatever that meant. He'd just assume that she wouldn't cheat him.

He smiled at her. "Thanks."

She ignored him, and moved on to another person.

Jack raised an eyebrow as he lifted his drink back up to his lips on the way out. "Tough gal." Most places made at least a minor attempt to have a few friendly –or at the very least, responsive-- workers standing around. In fact, in all this time, there was only one other incident that he instantly called to mind, where he could remember being ignored like that…

_"So, are you busy tonight?" He grinned at the woman behind the counter, who ignored him, tapping away at the buttons of a cash register, and its computer counterpart. _

_He decided to try a different tactic. "I'd like a refill of this, please."_

_Barely looking at him, she grabbed another bottle of the beer and set it down in front of him._

_"Thanks!" She ignored him, and went straight back to her work on the computer._

_"Where have all of the manners gone?" Jack shook his head and sighed, hoping to evict a response, but not getting satisfied._

_He was thinking and scheming up a plan to attract her attention when Ianto slid dropped down onto the stool that was next to him. "Sorry. Traffic." He had gotten out of Torchwood early that day, and gotten to go home to actually get some sleep, while Jack had remained in the Hub._

_Ianto glanced at the girl behind the bar. "I'll have what he's having, please."_

_She nodded and stood, and grabbed another beer that was identical to the one that Jack was having, and set it down in front of Ianto. "Anything else I can get you?"_

_Ianto looked surprised. "No, thank you. Nothing right now."_

_She nodded, eying him with obvious interest. "Well, just give a shout if you need anything."_

_"Of course." She watched him for a moment longer, before returning to her work._

_Jack smirked. "She didn't show that must interest in me," he said in a low voice, although it really wasn't of any consequence to him if she overheard. "Lucky man!"_

_Ianto blushed, flustered and unable to_ _come up with a suitable response._

That had been a fun evening, and a relaxing one, too –it was shortly after Tosh and Owen had died, and the weeks before that one had mostly been spent picking up the pieces that had been left behind. It had only been the second or third time since then that they had gone out together.

Why was he thinking of this now, of all places? It didn't make any sense. There were no memories associated with this planet, or with its people. Otherwise, he wouldn't have even bothered coming! He had left Earth to _escape_ these things, not to face them on a casual night out.

It was cold outside, and for some reason that instantly through his mind back to that day, that damned day at Thames House. It had been freezing in there, perhaps to accommodate the alien scum that it had taken in, or perhaps just because it was summer.

_"I promise… never."_

"I didn't forget," he whispered, and his voice was breathless in the freezing air. "I didn't!" His hand tightened around the half-way empty bottle of drink in his hand. "I couldn't; I never will."

Sometimes, though, perhaps it couldn't hurt to be reminded –hopefully, it didn't.

Because God only knew, the memories weren't going to be stopping anytime soon.

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_a/n: Reviews very much appreciated -this is only my third time trying to write Torchwood, and my first time really exploring Jack's character_. _I'd really appreciate any concrit you have to offer._


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